Nine Lives
by BloodAndDiamonds
Summary: There were often times when Sebastian would compare his dear Bocchan to a cat. In retrospect, Ciel would never know how true that comparison could be...
1. Arkoi, Constantinople, India

**A/N**: Heh, I've a tendency to switch very quickly between my fics… At the moment, I'm that busy with preparing for an exam that I'm writing the inspiration that comes to me… I'm not slacking, per se, just writing what I can. I'm definitely returning to my two unfinished fics at the end of the next week, even if I have to force myself to write!  
Anyhow, this has popped up recently in my mad inspiration-crazes. If this gets put onto the site, then it's the first of many fanfics from different fandoms that I'll have finished. (I've Oblivion and DAO ficlets that I've started but not finished.) They'll be a little out of a character at first; gradually changing towards how they normally are towards the end. This will be in three parts, each chapter showing three different lives.

The idea for the first part of this (Sebastian's past, age, status, and reason for becoming a demon) is Daphne-Angel's (Check out her fic, Lux Ex Tenebris!), I merely expanded the plot and added Ciel to it, so thank you for letting me use the idea! And, as you should guess considering this is _fan_fiction, I don't own Kuroshitsuji. :(

* * *

**1073 B.C. Arkoi**

The first time they met, _both _were human.

One a prince, the other a servant.

The servant swallowed thickly, standing outside one of the huge oak doors to palace he was serving in. The queen had recently found him on the streets, starving, skinny, stroppy and _perfect_, in her eyes, to serve the royal family. He wasn't sure why she had thought that; the woman had planted him into many different work areas to test his skills, and had instead found that he wasn't particularly talented in those areas. Thus, she had sent him to wait outside this door.

A very large, _intimidating_ door.

The door that led to the King's personal rooms.

He folded his hands nervously, twiddling his thumbs and forcing himself to keep calm. His mother had always told him, bless her soul, that one never achieved anything in life if they waited around lazily, holding back because of nerves or allowing others to grasp the spider web that could have been theirs.

Raised voices snapped him from his thoughts and, cleverly, he moved to the left as the door flung open. Just in time, it seemed, as a young man stormed from the room and would have surely barged into him had he not moved. Two young women followed, hanging off the young man like lapdogs and wearing chitons with the same pattern as the young man's cloak. The servant gave a quiet scoff, refraining from shaking his head as the dark haired young man paused at the calling of the King.

"Do _not _storm out like a spoilt child on me, my son!" At the sharp voice of the King, the young man whirled around, black cloak billowing out around him as a result of the speed of his turn and the breeze that had swept through the castle.

"_Father,_" The young man forced out bitterly, and the servant dared to look up to watch the scene unfold, "I simply-" The young man's train of thought came to an abrupt halt when startling blue eyes met dark brown ones, the reddish tint in the latter's eyes forcing the former to hold back a gasp. For a fleeting moment, time stopped completely, the presence of the two women and the King completely disappearing from their sight and thought as their unusual eyes locked, promising secrets and forbidding truth.

The servant quickly dropped his gaze, eyes fixated on the ground in fear; he knew all too well the punishment for looking one's superiors in the eyes. The young man found himself unconsciously licking his lips, head titled to the side as he studied the servant. He was slim, ridiculously so, seeming weak enough to the point where the young man seriously doubted he would be much use. His shocking blue eyes were hidden under greyish blue hair; the young man found himself surprised when the urge to gently push his hair from his eyes overcame him.

Only when the King left his quarters to see why his son had stopped mid sentence did the servant look back up again, face towards the King but eyes focused just below his chin to avoid being disrespectful. The young man snapped from his reverie, locking eyes with his father.

"Who is this?"

"Must be the boy sent up by your mother. Boy, is that why you are here?" The servant gave a quick nod, starting to sweat in his thick robes from the King's gaze.

"Why did mother send him to you?" The young man asked his father, slightly curious with a burning hope inside him that, despite him not knowing the servant's name, the servant wasn't waiting for the King for a particularly bad reason. The King looked at the servant, one of his greyed eyebrows raised as they waited for an answer.

"Well?"

"I-I have not been able to fully carry out any of the tasks that the Queen has given me. She saw fit to send me to you, your majesty, so that you might find another duty to entrust to me." At his quiet words the King gave a nod, looking over at the two women who were still latched onto the young man's arm.

"Go find the Queen. If I recall, you are _her _servants and not my sons." The two women gave respectful bows, eyes locking with the young mans before they left the three others standing outside the King's quarters.

"My son, you do not have a servant to tend to your needs, do you? Simple things such as washing, dressing? This boy is now given those tasks." With that the King gave a small nod before disappearing through the door to his quarters. An uneasy silence hung in the air, broken only by the young man turning to leave and beckoning the servant to follow.

"As you should know, I am the youngest of seven sons to King Alexander. If you don't know that…" He trailed off, the servant looking up quickly only to find the young prince was standing _very_ close to him. The prince cocked his head to the side, fingers curling under the servants chin, forcing him to look up at him. The servant kept his eyes focused on the wall behind the prince, until the man clicked his tongue and the servant's eyes darted to lock with his.

"You have very startling eyes. Very curious indeed. Are you aware of this?" The servant trembled when he became backed up against a wall; he gave a nod and tried to hold back a nervous squeak.

"Y-yes, your highness."

"Good. If you will be serving me, I wish to at least know your name and age. To start, I am Prince Sebastian, seventh son to King Alexander. I am twenty two years of age." _I once had a dog named Sebastian, back when dear old mother was alive… Humph._

As if reading the servant's thoughts, the prince let go of his chin, slowly taking a step back but refusing to tear his eyes away from where they were focused on the servants.

"Twenty years of age, your highness." The servant trembled, either from nerves or the hand that curled around the back of his neck, he wasn't sure.

"And your name?" Sebastian inquired, gently tugging at a lock of the servant's greyish blue hair.

"Ciel Averlain."

To say the next few months of Ciel Averlain's life were uneventful would be a massive understatement. Ciel's first impression of the Prince had been that he was spoilt, showered with riches and given any woman he wished for. Being the youngest son, Ciel had also been given the impression that Prince Sebastian was the favourite.

And although all his assumptions of the Prince had been correct, one of his assumptions had a strange side tag to it. Although the Prince was indeed given any woman he wanted –and many hung on his arms at many points during the day – the Prince's attention seemed to be drifted towards those of his gender.

To be specific, young male servants.

To be even _more _specific, Ciel himself.

Ciel had lost count of the amount of roses with rather _descriptive_ notes that he had found hidden under his sheets in the servants quarters. He didn't even _want _to count the amount of times he had found himself pinned against walls in empty halls on hot sweltering days, more to the fact that every time he so much as _thought_ of those incidents he blushed a pretty shade of pink.

In fact, Ciel believed that the only reason the Prince _hadn't_ kissed or claimed him yet was because he was waiting for a time when Ciel wouldn't expect it. Nightly, he would receive orders to go to the Prince's chambers where he would spend hours in conversation with the prince, the only light in the room being that of the moon shining in through the windows. Ciel suspected that the Prince was watching as Ciel became more comfortable with the nightly talks before making his move.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the palace, and even Ciel and Prince Sebastian themselves, they had grown to fall in love over the last few months. But rumours circulate from anything, and the rumours to be spread from a servant's nightly visit to the Prince were ones that made Ciel blush right up to the tips of his ears.

However, after finding yet two more roses hidden under his sheets, one black and one red instead of the usual deep purple, Ciel had found himself standing outside the door to the Prince's quarters, nervously wringing his hands in front of him and tugging at bandages on his left hand. The black and the red rose had meant something, _it had _to have done, and although Ciel didn't particularly mind the thought of what could lay ahead, he dreaded the reaction if anyone found out. The punishment for sleeping with someone of his gender was life imprisonment if with a commoner. He didn't even want to _think _of the punishment for sleeping with a Prince.

The door opened a crack, a dark brown orb looking out into the hallway to see a nervous Ciel standing there. There was an unconscious breath of relief from both sides of the door before it opened wide enough for Ciel to silently slip through. Once through, Ciel gave a sharp intake of breath; the entire room was illuminated from the moon – not a single corner of the room was darkened – and the place gave off an eerie glow. Ciel turned, catching Sebastian's eyes that were tinted their unusual red in the moonlight.

For one quiet, endless second, neither of them moved, breaths hitched in the back of their throats. Both hoped for the same outcome of the night, and in that endless second hesitation was erased and doubts pushed to the back of their minds.

The next second found Ciel pushed down on the bed, red hot lips tracing a searing path down his neck as long hands pulled at his clothes. His own hands were pulling at the ties on the back of Sebastian's nightclothes; he secretly thanked the King for making him Sebastian's personal servant, else he wouldn't have been able to pull those clothes off quite so quickly.

A second later they sprung apart, scrambling for something to cover themselves with when the doors burst open, a dozen of the King's guard storming into the room. Both Ciel and Sebastian were quickly grabbed roughly, both being forced to face the door as the King walked through.

Neither of them could even open their mouths to speak; there was no doubt about what they were about to do.

"Check their breaths." At the King's words, a guard stepped in front of Ciel and ordered him to breathe out through his mouth. Ciel did so, and the guard shook his head, moving to Sebastian. The guard took an abrupt step back when Sebastian in turn spat in his face.

"No scent of alcohol on their breaths, your Majesty."

"Sebastian, my son, why would you –" The King, who had started to move towards Sebastian, was cut off by Ciel.

"It was my fault, your Majesty. I seduced the Prince, knowing all too well that he would be powerless to resist when he was half-asleep." Ciel hung his head as he spoke, not daring to look up at any of them. One of the guards holding him gave him a hard strike across the face, splitting the servant's lip. King Alexander looked down at him, knowing he was lying but puzzled as to why he was doing so. A quick look at his son's horrified face confirmed that Ciel was lying.

"I know my son too well to believe that he did not know what he was doing. In fact, Ciel Averlain, I feel that _you _were seduced." The king took a few slow steps across the room, and Ciel dared a look over to Sebastian. He was struggling against the two guards, although he was looking directly at Ciel with a look that resembled disbelief. King Alexander hovered by the door, giving one look of utter disgust to his son before looking at the guards.

"Hang the servant. Publicly stone the Prince."

Both lives were ended at three pm the next afternoon, one privately and one by the hands of the very people who had loved him for his twenty-two years of life. Ciel had accepted his fate, allowing his soul to be set into the cycle of rebirth. Sebastian –having been filled with rage and anger at the unfairness of his father- had been given a choice. Let his own soul be reborn in the natural cycle, or become a demon.

He chose the latter. A reaper had fought viciously to reclaim his soul before it made the full change, only to fail.

The two would part ways… for now.

* * *

"_Have you heard the tale of Tithonus?"_

"_No, your highness."_

"_Look at me when you speak. It is said that he was a lover of Eos, who kidnapped him from the house of Troy. She asked the gods to grant him immortality… Surely you have heard of this tale?"_

"_I'm afraid not, your highness. I was raised in Byzantium… Although still Greek, I was not told these tales by my mother… Was this Tithonus granted immortality?"_

"_Immortality, yes. But Eos had not asked for eternal youth. He grew old, weary, but never died. I bring this up because I have a question for you. Eternal life, growing old but never dying, or a shortened life followed by a slow and painful death?"_

"_Your highness?"_

"_Answer the question, Ciel."_

"_I would have to say a short life followed with a painful death. What use would it be, to live a long life and watch everyone around you die?"_

_"Interesting answer… Would it change if we were caught in the middle of my claiming you?" Ciel blushed pink at his words._

_It was a shade Sebastian would not forget so easily._

* * *

**330 A.D. Constantinople**

The second time they met, one was a demon, the other still human. One was Emperor Constantine's personal adviser, the other an ordered thief.

"_Get me something from in there. I don't care what, boy, just something_."

The words had been direct enough, and the young boy had spent long enough scaling the walls of the new Emperor's palace whilst dodging guards. He'd gotten into the palace in perfect time, had run through basements and secret corridors in order to find something worth stealing, and had stumbled upon crates of typical Roman glass. Typical, but worth hundreds to those out of the Roman Empire. All of them sparkled from the light of the dim candles in the room, spelling out riches to come for anyone who could own them. Only one would fit inside the sling he had turned into a pack, but one was enough to get him through the next year safely. Enough to feed him, clothe him, make him seem smart enough for a working job that _paid_.

He hadn't even gotten to the stairs when he was caught.

"_The thief has no doubt stumbled upon my crate of glass vases. Catch him for me."_

The demon had given only a short nod before he had left, faster than the guards in the room could blink, down to the basements in order to catch the thief. How he _despised _living through his 'life' on contracts, taking souls that he could only help mould before snatching. He claimed to not know why he chose to live like this instead of just eating souls as he pleased, but deep down he knew the real reason; taking souls via contract allowed him to hold onto the last sparks of humanity that resided in him, even if that humanity was only the form of a human.

Briefly, his thoughts flickered to a face that he hadn't seen for over seven hundred years. He'd heard of soul reincarnation, but decades of searching had made him give up the small echoes of hope he had harboured. Now, he couldn't care less; the servant had been in his life, not his hell.

He moved quickly, slinking into the basement with the shadows hiding him, stepping out only when the thief made to move out through the staircase he had came in from. The thief made a quick turn, thinking he hadn't been spotted, and in turn was roughly picked up by the demon.

"Now, what would someone like you be doing in a place like this? You don't seem to be wearing the proper attire for a guard of the basements… so you must be a thief." A statement, not a question. Not that the thief would have been able to answer, as the demon's grip had tightened the more he had struggled to break free, and he was being squeezed to the point where it was difficult to talk. The demon pulled the cloth hood from his head, taking notice not of the thief's unusual grey hair with blue streaks, but of the piece of cloth that was banded around his head. It was a special kind of cloth, used in blindfolds for older human's who had trouble with the sun being too bright or people with defects concerning their eyes. It acted like a blindfold, the eyes unable to be seen through the cloth, but was unusual in the sense that the wearer could still see. Everything would simply be dimmed.

"An unusual blindfold you are wearing. Certainly not something a thief would be able to afford, else you wouldn't have been stealing." The demon pulled at the ties, holding the thief with one arm and taking the blindfold off. He then took the glass vase from the sling, throwing it towards a crate with such accuracy that it landed standing up, not a single crack forming from the impact.

In retrospect, what he saw next wasn't what had slackened his grip. No, the flash of blue eyes reflecting in the glass from where the thief was glaring at it didn't make him loosen his hold, although was certainly a contributor. Nor was it the sharp backwards kick to his groin from the struggling thief – that wouldn't have been able to make so much as _blink_.

"Put me _down_, _Sebastian!_"

_That _was what had made him slacken his grip on the young man. The thief fell from the hold, smacking hard on the floor and letting out a cry of frustration before he froze where he was stood, staring up at his captor. It seemed that the only reason he _wasn't _running as fast as he could out of the palace was because he was confused by his outburst.

"What did you just call me?" The question wasn't supposed to sound menacing, but to a thief who had just been caught by the emperor's personal advisor red-handed, the question hadn't seemed fairly nice either. The fact that the demon's red eyes were flashing dangerously didn't seem to help much.

"I simply shouted 'put me down.' Nothing more." The demon might have believed him had he not been wringing his hands nervously. _That _brought back memories that he had long since forgotten, and coupled with the familiar shocking blue of the thief's eyes, the demon felt bare threads of emotion that he had once thought himself incapable of.

"How old are you?" The thief blanched at the question, clearly thinking the advisor either insane for asking such a question, or believing he was up to something with all the questions.

"Eighteen years of age…" He spoke out slowly, carefully. The demon ignored the fact that the thief was slowly edging away across the floor.

"What's your name?"

"Ciel…"

"No last name?"

"When the city was taken over and unified into Constantinople, my parents refused to change their last names… They were killed long ago, so I have no last name that I can remember." The thief moved to stand up and run, but the demon's hand on the scruff of the clothing on his neck pulled him back.

"Not so fast. Why were you stealing?" The demon asked, running a hand through his black hair. He had retained his memories from his former life, and had chosen his human form to be no different to what it had been when he was alive. Whether Ciel had his memories was unclear, although the demon could count on those staying the same, for now at least.

"Why do you _think _I was stealing? I'm not sure how intelligent you are, but even a three year old child would know it's because I have no choice." At his words, the demon gave a scoff, letting go of Ciel's clothing and pushing him towards a door.

"If that was the case, you would be long dead. You always have another route, another path to take. If you had only one choice, you would have been killed long ago. Only by luck have you managed to stay aloft as a thief for so long. Take your glass vase, Ciel Averlain, but don't let me catch you as a thief again."

Ciel frowned at the demon, thinking his words over in his head before a gasp escaped his lips. He had not given the demon a last name, but the full name from his former life sparked a memory inside him. But as the demon had said, he had two choices. Choosing to flee rather than stay and question, Ciel took his blindfold from the floor, snagged a vase from the crate and fled. Out into the night, only eighteen years into his second life and having already been found by the demon at the one point where he had stopped searching.

Seven years later, when Emperor Constantine had died and his soul claimed by Sebastian, the demon searched again. He found only a soulless corpse in Athens that had died from starvation, clutching at a single shard of Roman glass.

* * *

"_Do you believe in Demon's, my Prince?"_

"_What an odd question… Yes, I do."  
_

_"What makes you believe in them?"_

_A silence. The servant wondered if he had perhaps struck a nerve._

* * *

**1073 A.D. India**

The third time they met, one was drowning.

In all honesty, the demon should have expected something like this to happen. At just over a thousand years old, they had first met in 1073 B.C, what on earth made him think that they wouldn't meet in the same year on the A.D side?

But in retrospect, he should've really stopped him from getting onto the boat he'd just sabotaged for his Lady. He had face palmed when he had saw the flash of distinctive greyish blue on the sinking wooden boat, the realisation hitting him with something similar to a tinge of annoyance.

This could only _ever_ happen to him.

He'd waited for his Lady to turn her head away to her husband before he moved. The woman didn't even notice that he was gone by the time he was at the edge of the lake, unaffected by the roasting sun as he quickly made to act.

The first thing he noticed, once he had dragged Ciel from the water, was how much lighter the man felt in his arms. The first and second time he had seen this particular soul in this body, the boy had been much… healthier. Even when a lowly thief stealing from an emperor's palace, he had been heavier to lift. The demon shook his head, dismissing the thought to the fact that he _had _just carried him through water, dragging the man to the side of the beach.

"I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't seen you? Have I inavertedly killed you in another life, too?" The Ciel that was now laying on the sandy shore next to him coughed and spluttered, choking out water through his lips.

"I would imagine that I would be dead, had you not seen me. But then again, had you not sabotaged my boat, I would be in much more pleasant situation, wouldn't you agree?" Ciel snapped, spitting and wincing as his lungs attempted to cough out the remaining water that lingered. For the first time in a very long time, the demon was at a loss for words. It seemed to be something that this soul had the unique ability to do.

"_Your _boat? Of course, _C. Funtom._" That realisation dawned on him quite quickly. The realisation that was soon to dawn didn't, however.

"Nothing seems to get past you, does it?" The Ciel before him pulled at his hair, twisting it to get rid of the water and frowning when it frizzed up.

"Were you the only one on that boat?" At the Demon's words, Ciel raised a finger to his cheek in mock thought, giving a sarcastic sigh.

"I should hope I was, or else you've just let someone else _die_." He brushed himself off; giving a hiss of disdain at the sand that was sticking to his Indian robes.

"I just saved your life, young man." The demon pointed out calmly in a matter-of-fact tone.

"If you hadn't sabotaged my boat in the first place, you wouldn't have _needed _to save me!" Ciel's tone matched his as he crossed his arms.

"How old are you?"

"I expect you to- _sorry?_ You just tried to _kill _me, and you don't even know who I am?" Ciel looked positively livid, his blue eyes glinting dangerously in the sunlight.

"No. How old are you?" The demon pressed on.

"If it keeps you quiet, I'll tell you. I'm seventeen; if you make any smart comments on how a man my age shouldn't be able to start a company at seventeen, I will gut you after I get you arrested for attempted _murder_."

"_You _are starting a company…?" The simple fact stated by Ciel set the demon to remember his orders from the young, blonde woman who was his Lady.

"_It's only something minor, demon. But I want him dead. My husband is the direct competitor for the trade link to Rome, and although the route is minor, money is money. When he dies, you may take my soul." _

The demon frowned, feeling the sign of his Faustian contract on his hand tingle at the remembrance of her words. Shaking his head, he looked down at Ciel, feeling oddly regretful at what he was about to do.

"_What_, pray tell, are you doing?" Ciel half yelled when the demon roughly picked him up by the back of his clothing.

"_Dreadfully _sorry about this." The sarcasm was dripping from the demon's words, lacing the tones of his voice thickly. Ciel narrowed his eyebrows. He gave a sigh, not struggling against the demon's grasp.

"It's that Raesu girl, isn't it? I _knew _it." Ciel shook his head, clenching his fists and glancing up to the demon.

"I am not contracted to give out my Lady's name when prompted, however I will make an exception. Yes, it is Raesu who wants you dead."

A sigh.

"Do what you must." The demon took him round to the corner of an abandoned building, feeling elated and yet disappointed. He was elated, as once the boy was dead, he could eat the soul of the girl who contracted him. He was disappointed because, although he hadn't planned on seeing Ciel again through another rebirth, he _had _found him and then was forced to kill him.

He used a stake, made from pulling a pillar of wood from the building. It seemed fitting, in an odd way. As the wooden stake was pushed through the ribcage of the slightly struggling Ciel, the boy gave an eerie grin to the demon. The words that left his lips almost made the demon drop him in surprise.

"I guess I'll see you again, _Sebastian_."

* * *

"_What makes me believe in Demon's, you ask? Ten years ago, when I was a boy of twelve, my father took me down to one of the slums for a royal visit. There had been an accident there; many lives had been lost, and he went to pay his respects. I went into the building where they were housing the sick. There, a woman had been gravely injured in the accident, her husband killed and her infant dying in her arms. Beside her stood a man, too pale to be of this country with a predatory look in his eyes, like a lion watching his dying prey eagerly. Everyone was rushing around so busily that no one noticed him. But the woman, she gave her infant a kiss on his young forehead, set him down on the bedroll next to her and nodded to the man stood next to her. I left soon after, but when I snuck down the next day, the woman had died and the man disappeared."_

"_How did that make you believe in demons, my prince? Surely an encounter seeming so innocent couldn't have made you believe in demons?"  
_

_"I remember thinking 'how could a God allow two innocent people like that mother and her child, to be injured so gravely in an accident?' And as I thought that, I remembered the colour of that mans eyes."  
_

_"What colour?"  
_

_"Red."_


	2. China, Weymouth, England

**A/N**: Hey! Thank you to those who reviewed; I'm really glad you liked the first chapter so much! :D I hope you all like chapter and I hope you think Ciel is beginning to become more in character!

Edit: The document manager isn't working out for me at the moment, so if it seems confusing, here's an explanation - A new reincarnation starts with the bold date and country, and it ends when it reaches the paragraphs in italics after a line break, at which point it switches to a memory of their first life. The line break that comes after that memory is the start of another life. So basically, the line breaks that occur without it switching to italics or a new life is part of the life you're currently reading. Bah, it'll make sense when you read it, and I'll see if I can fix it tomorrow D:

* * *

**1285 A.D. China**

* * *

"What_ is_ this feeling? Why does my mind feel the need to indulge in miserable echoes of pity, sadness, regret, longing and despair? Echoes they may be, but compose yourself… You are a demon. Cold, uncaring, unloving –"

_Crash!_

"_Do _watch where you're going! _Imbecile_."

The fourth time they met, it started with an argument. _How _the demon hadn't seen the younger boy walking down the hall of the palace towards him, he didn't know.

"You could have walked around me." Simple. But the younger boy wasn't giving up.

"I _did_. But then you seemed to have saw fit to move as I did, crashing into me. Do you realise how annoyed the Emperor will be? Those herbs were for his sick son!" The boy he had crashed into retorted quickly and smoothly, prompting the demon to look up and promptly give an annoyed sigh at the appearance of an almost-ill looking Ciel. _Typical_. The one time they meet where Ciel was neither a target, thief or an off-limits servant, and he _had _to get into a 'heated discussion.'

"And Zhenjin was unable to garner these herbs on his own?" The demon asked, carefully analysing the current Ciel. His hair was full black, although when he moved his head and allowed the light to hit it, it went to the greyish blue that the demon would normally recognise him by. His eyes were still their vivid blue, the right eye supporting a nasty scar beneath it. At seeing the demon's gaze directed onto the scar, Ciel smacked his hand over his eye, attempting to carefully pick up the broken china and herbs with only one hand.

"In case you didn't hear me; Zhenjin is _ill_. So no, he is not able to collect and use these herbs on his own." Ciel moved his hand from his eye, pushing his hair onto his face before using both hands to pick up the remaining china pieces. The demon knelt down next to him, helping with the china and herbs.

"You are young for a servant, are you not? At least, young for this kind of work. I would have thought someone like you would be helping out with the maids." The answer to his words was a sharp scoff.

"Watch your words, servant. I'm the general's son, Ciel Phantom. I merely offered to collect the herbs for Zhenjin after seeing the Emperor's distress over his son's health. Now pass me the broken china; ancestors forbid should a person see the state of such fine china." He shook his head, pulling the china from Sebastian's hands and stopping dead when he noticed the bowl was repaired and _perfect_, not a single scratch or crack on the surface. Resting in the bowl were most of the herbs that had originally been in there before their collision.

"I would suggest, young man, that you close your mouth. It is a most unattractive quality when one resembles the Koi in the palace ponds."

"I-I _how _did you do that? I could have _sworn _that the china had smashed; I even have cuts from the shards!" Ciel protested, but the bowl was shoved into his hands abruptly.

"Now, I do not think the Emperor will appreciate you being late, nor would the general. Hurry." As the demon said this, Ciel gave a frustrated groan, gripped the china bowl tightly and stalked off.

The demon only smirked, not noticing the warning in the skinnier frame of Ciel.

* * *

"Pass me the knife… good girl. Now, see how this piece of thread sticks out a little bit? Don't pull at it." The voice echoed from the servant's area of the kitchens, inaudible to anyone but the demon that had paused outside the doors to listen in. He slipped into the shadows in the mostly empty kitchen, watching as Ciel sat on a stool opposite a girl no older than five, a needle and thick thread resting on the eating table next to them. Ciel gave a smile to the young girl, cutting through something in his hands before handing it down to the patiently waiting girl. The demon could see that it was a worn, old toy rabbit with a head of porcelain, covered in stitched cloth and decorated to make it seem cuter and softer for the girl. Ciel seemed to have sown an arm back onto the toy, if the loose thread was anything to go by.

"Thank you for fixing her…" Her voice was quiet as she hugged the toy to her chest tightly in the dim light of the kitchens. Ciel gave her a brighter smile that seemed almost fake to the demon.

"Don't mention it. Now remember, keep her close; she'll protect you from demons and other nasty things." As he whispered 'demons', the demon in the room was certain that Ciel's eyes had flickered over to his hiding spot. Ciel tapped the young girl on the nose, making her give a shy giggle before he led her to one of the tapestries on the far wall, pulling it aside.

"If you go through here, you'll be back in the sleeping area before anyone catches you." The little girl gave a serious nod, clutching the toy tightly before disappearing down the passage. Ciel gave an audible sigh, shaking his head fondly before turning and nearly yelping in surprise at the demon leaning against one of the walls. He was considerably closer to Ciel than when he had first entered.

"Staying out in the servant's kitchen when we shouldn't be, young man?" Ciel narrowed his eyes at the demon, moving back to his stool and carefully sitting upon it, trying to distract the demon's attention as he hid the needle and thread.

"I could say the same to you, but you're only a servant." He sneered, pulling at the sleeves of his tunic and slipping the needle up the sleeve. The demon noticed it.

"A servant I may be, but I'm much more important to Zhenjin than other servants." A subtle hint. One that Ciel didn't pick up on.

"Either way, you should not be awake at this time of the morning."

"Neither should you."

The demon hid a smirk at Ciel's muttered grumble; it was something along the lines of 'act like you're better than me _one _more time, and this needle will be fast friends with your pretty face.' Ciel lowered his head before flinging his arm out quickly, throwing the thick and sharp needle and letting it cut through the air towards the demon. When he caught it between two fingers without so much as a blink, Ciel's eyes narrowed further.

"You're not human, are you?" He stood up from the stool, braving a step towards the demon.

"Oh? What would make you think that?" At the demon's words, Ciel gave him a deliberate look before speaking.

"First off, _that _little trick would be impossible. No human should have been able to see a needle that thin shoot towards them. Secondly, although you act exactly as a servant of China and Crown Prince Zhenjin should, you would have been dismissed on the first day for having your hair that length. It's too short; you'd be considered disrespectful, so the prince must have a very special reason for keeping you. The third clue? Zhenjin had been trying to convince his family for years that Confucianism should be supported. You showed up a few months ago, and suddenly even the Emperor agrees with it. A day later, Zhenjin takes ill, and all the while there is a look of hunger on your face, as if you are waiting for him to die." Ciel had moved from where he was standing to one of the wooden cabinets, rifling around it quietly as he spoke.

"Only the first statement is not ludicrous enough to be correct." The demon was intrigued; surprised that Ciel had figured everything out so quickly. Briefly, he wondered if it was due to vague memories of his past lives. That thought disappeared the moment he remembered that Ciel had just thrown a needle at him, and was now subtly eyeing up the knife in the cabinet.

"Ah, ludicrous statements they may be, but true, yes?" Ciel closed the cabinet doors, holding a small fruit in his hand. The demon wondered if he was either going to eat it or throw it.

"What about your own hair? It too is unusually short, is it not?" A dark look flashed across Ciel's face at the demon's words.

"You avoid answering my question, servant."

"And you avoid answering mine." Ciel gave a frustrated groan, slowly moving back to his stool.

"I'm already a disgrace to my father. What difference would a bit of disrespect make?" The demon's red eyes widened momentarily as Ciel whispered his words in a resigned wonder.

"Your father is the general, yes? How are you a disgrace?" The demon edged closer, leaning against the table and looking down at the sitting boy.

"I'm sitting here in a tunic and cotton pants, when I should be on a battlefield, or in a training camp. I'm not the eldest, nor the youngest, but at sixteen I should be able to compete with my brothers for the title of General when the time comes. I cannot." Ciel put his head in his hands, elbows on the table to prop himself up.

"Why aren't you in the army? Why can't you compete with your brothers?" There was a small glimmer of concern in the demon's voice, one that made the demon realise there was something seriously wrong if he was feeling concern, of all things.

"I was a weak child when born. I was even weaker growing up, to the point where my mother kept me indoors; not because she cared about me, but because she was ashamed. At five years old, they reported that I was too weak to survive the coming winter and sent me here to be looked after by the servants. I was still given gifts by my parents, but never loved by them. At fourteen, I was tested by my father to be trained for the army, to test if my strength had improved. I was bested by a _child younger _than myself." The demon calmly raised his eyebrow at this, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table.

"Some people are not made for life in the army. It does not make you a disgrace; merely different." Ciel gave a scoff, shaking his head.

"In China, I'm not too sure which of those is worse." Ciel retorted, standing up from his stool and making his way towards the tapestry on the other side of the kitchens. His hand hovered over the fabric, head turned to look behind him at the demon. The demon moved a fraction of an inch, stopping at the sound of footsteps coming down the long corridor outside the kitchens. Before Ciel could even blink the demon was behind him, pushing him through the passage hidden by the tapestry.

"It would perhaps be best for you to run along that passage. No, don't look at me like that, young man. I can hide more effectively than you ever could." The demon was gone before Ciel could even protest.

When the Prince died the very next day and his soul given to the Demon, he was summoned almost immediately afterwards by a woman on the other side of China. Once that business was over and done with, he returned to the palace in search of the soul that had kept popping up in his life. He scoured the palace two years later looking for the young servant who had been the son of the General.

His findings brought him only to an elaborate coffin of a seventeen year old that had died of sickness in the winter, forever wondering what had happened to the demon.

* * *

_"Why would eye colour make you assume someone was a demon?" At his words, the Prince closed the heavy book in his arms and crossed his legs on his window seat, leaving enough space on the long seat for someone else to sit down._

_"Are you still thinking about that topic, Ciel?" At the use of his name and the patting from the prince on the seat across him, the servant turned a delicate pink and shook his head._

_"Yes, I am still wondering, my Prince. And no thank you, it would be impertinent for me to sit down." The prince narrowed his eyes._

_"Either sit down, or you will not get an answer from me."_

_"I assure you, my Prince, that I am fine stand-"_

_"Sit down." At the tone in his voice, the servant promptly but calmly sat down on the window seat, eyes widening when he saw the sight from the window. From his window, the prince could see the docks, the slums of the small country, the wealthier households and, not too far behind it all, the sea that seemed to stretch for miles. _Now _he understood why the Prince always stayed near the window whilst he was not in the room._

_"A fine view, is it not? I despise it. But to your question. How many people do you know with red eyes? How many people do you know with red eyes that seem to defy all nature, shockingly pale despite this country's weather, faster than is normal with a devilish hunger flaring behind their eyes?"_

_"None."_

_"Exactly. So what could he have been?" At the question, the servant fumbled with his hands. He'd a vague idea of something else, but that had been what his mother had once told him to stop him from wandering the house at night when he was a child._

_"A revenant?"_

_The Prince had to fight very, very hard to hold back his laughter._

* * *

**1348 A.D. A ship heading to Weymouth, England**

* * *

Their fifth meeting didn't last long. The demon had been wandering around a trade ship, ignoring the bumbling man next to him and keeping his eyes on the Captain of the ship. The captain merely glanced down at him from where he was controlling the ship, his hair whipping around his face due to the stormy winds on the ocean. Had the demon still been human, he was _certain _that he would have vomited by now.

He briefly thought back to Ciel. The soul seemed to be haunting his thoughts _much _more frequently, to the point where the demon was getting annoyed with himself. He'd never got to taste the boy's lips when they were both alive, having only reached the jaw line when they were caught, and in every revival afterwards _something _would snatch him away before he had a chance to _catch _him.

The warning to him that he had been given on their last two meetings was relatively clear to him now. Every time Ciel's soul seemed to come back into the cycle of life, the physical embodiment was getting weaker. It never changed appearance though; Ciel had looked more or less the same in each embodiment. Not only that, but the age that the demon would see him seemed to be decreasing too. If the demon didn't hurry up and get the boy – or perhaps man – he wouldn't find the soul again at a suitable age. He could _hardly_ claim a five year old boy.

The demon shook his head at the thoughts, pushing his hair from his face and moving down to the lower levels of the ship; he'd heard that there were some rare breeds of cats being transported. They fascinated him more than the pesky soul that kept arriving in his life. He stopped outside the door, however, when he heard a whimper, accompanied with heavy breathing and the sound of vomiting. _Great_, he thought. One of the sailors must have gained sea sickness.

Pushing the door open, the sight that greeted him was surprising and _definitely_ not expected. Curled up in a corner of the room lay Ciel himself, deathly pale and vomiting up blood into an empty crate. Small black dots speckled his face and visible hand, and the boy seemed to be shaking from cold. He stepped closer slowly, the wooden door slamming behind him and causing the boy to snap his head up before he vomited again. In the second that his head snapped up, the demon was faced with three lumps on the side of Ciel's neck. The demon knelt next to the ill boy, pulling him out from the cramped corner and propping him up against a larger crate as Ciel continued to vomit and splutter out blood.

Roughly, he tilted the boys head to the side, examining the smooth lumps that surrounded a tiny, almost unnoticeable, bite mark.

"What happened to your neck?" He asked in the softest tone he could muster, slowly running his hand over the lumps and frowning. Ciel ceased his vomiting momentarily, his left hand quickly slapping up to his neck to feel the lumps. His eyes widened and he gave a desperate cry; he hadn't even known they were there.

"_Plague_." His words were laced with a distant fear, eyes slightly widened as he hung his head to be ill once more. The demon shook his head.

"It's very unlikely to be plague." A lie. "Tell me how you got this bite on your neck." Ciel pointed to the small crate that he had been leaning against in the corner.

"Rat. They were experimenting on it, doing horrific things to the other rats in the hospital. Father had just died, mother is long gone, and I took the rat and ran. It bit me as I hid it in my clothing."

"How many days ago was this?" The demon asked, relatively calm despite the small hint of dread that seemed to be flickering behind his crimson eyes. Ciel closed his eyes, counting mentally.

"Um… Four days ago? I think. Maybe it was five." Ciel closed his eyes, his heavy breathing echoing in the small cargo room. The demon shook his head.

"You shouldn't have done that. You've just dug your own grave, I'm afraid. You should be dead by now."

"I'd guessed as much. I thought I'd go to England because it is Plague free. I don't think I'll be alive when we get to the port. Fifteen, and I'll be dead before morning." He shook his head, rubbing at his temples and vomiting up more blood. The demon looked at the boy's hand, taking it and examining the little black spots. Pushing the sleeves of his tattered clothing up his arm, he saw more littering his arm.

"Your skin is already decaying, dying. Are you in pain?" At the question, Ciel merely gave him a pointed look before throwing up once more. The demon placed his hand to Ciel's forehead, muttering a small curse. Being a demon, he was generally a warm person, hating any cold and his body temperature was well above average. Despite this, he could still feel the heat from Ciel's forehead. He didn't have long left.

"Everything hurts…" Ciel moaned out suddenly, curling up and resting his head on the side of the crate he was vomiting in, not caring about his hair ends touching the blood he had vomited. The demon was about to give a reply when his hand tingled, signalling that he was wanted by his master. Gently, he pushed the boy's hair away from his face before swiftly moving with a quiet, half genuine promise to be bac quite soon.

When the demon had gone down to the cargo, he hadn't expected to see a dying Ciel. When he went back down a second time an hour later after his business was done and they were arriving at the port, Ciel was long since dead, the body laid out on the floor with his arms tucked to his stomach. The demon gave a resigned sigh, shaking his head and moving to the crate in the corner which contained the single rat that had bitten Ciel. Surprisingly, it was still alive. He should have killed it, really he should have.

Instead, however, he quietly left the room after adjusting Ciel's body, holding the crate tightly as he stepped off the ship and onto the docks of Weymouth. Bending down next to a dampened alley, he slid the lid off the top of the crate, allowing the plague-infected rat into the streets of a plague-free England.

"Reapers, prepare to judge the lives of _many _these next few weeks."

* * *

_"Why do you not like this view, my Prince?"_

_"A simple reason, really. My family considers the view from my window the most beautiful. But tell me, what is beautiful about seeing the slums of the city, the terror of the wealthy, and the struggles of the slaves? What is beautiful about seeing that blue ocean, lapping against the shore and taunting you? Looking at the life of the ocean and knowing that it will live forever, whilst you will soon be a corpse, six feet under?"_

_"S-soon to be a corpse?" The Prince laughed at the horror in the servant's voice._

_"My father may believe we are immortal. He may have convinced my brothers that we are. But not me. I see the sickness inside him. He seems to think that if he makes himself believe he will never die, then his death will never come. But you can calm down, Ciel. When I said 'soon to be a corpse' I did not mean in the near future."_

_"I-I…I didn't- I…"_

* * *

**1484 A.D. England**

* * *

The sixth time they met, it was rather by accident. Not that the other times weren't accidental, but this one tended to make the demon cringe every time he would think of it. Their parting was what made it particularly worse.

"Until you complete your task, you can serve as my daughter's tutor, and occasionally, my son's. I teach him myself, most days, but there are times when I cannot. He seems to think he can get away with no lessons." The portly man gave a gruff laugh, clapping the demon on the shoulder. The demon merely glared at the hand in disdain until the man let go. The man continued talking, but the demon completely ignored him in favour of his thoughts. What if the soul reappeared in the next hundred years? He'd only just been able to return to England without the reapers following his tracks, and there had seemed to be a connection with every place that the soul tended to appear in.

Constantinople had been Greek, just like Arkoi was when they had first met. Constantinople had a trade link with India, which was where they had met the third time. India had a trade link with China along the Silk Road, one that the seventeen year old Ciel had business along. China was where he had appeared next, weaker than ever before. The link to France had been completely random for the fifth time they had met, although the ship may have had some significance he couldn't identify. And England, of course, where he had released the rat that had killed Ciel and allowed it to spread the plague.

He was broken from his musings at the sound of a door banging open, a young girl bursting through with tears in her eyes and launching herself towards the portly man.

"Father! Brother is being terrible again!" She wore a floor length houppelande, the long draping sleeves flying about as she waved to get her father's attention. The gown was old, well out of fashion and, if the look from the man's face was anything to go by, something he didn't approve of his daughter wearing. Her hair had been pulled back, although the demon could tell that if it was let down, it would be nothing short of large, voluminous blonde curls.

"What is he saying, child?" At the question, tears swelled up in her eyes again.

"He's saying that he'll lock me in the tower of London, and that I'll end up like dear old Edward and Richard!" The girl gave an upset sob, clutching at her fathers sleeve. The demon held back a groan; he knew he wasn't going to enjoy tutoring this girl. His eyes lifted to the door when someone else stepped through, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his arms and a frown on his face.

"I did not say it quite like that. We were discussing what could have happened to Edward and Richard, since we haven't seen them since they were sent to the tower, and I merely implied that they had been killed in the last year. She started to shout, so I told her that I'd lock her in and allow her to go the same way they did." They boy was leaning against the wall, eyebrow raised at the crying girl who scowled at him behind her father's back. The portly man gave an annoyed groan.

"Ciel! You do not know the fate of the two princes; do not upset your sister over it."

"Oh their fate is obvious. We used to see them every month until the King died, and then we only saw them once last year. Edward should have been King, but he's not because he's not 'legitimate' when he very clearly is. Unless he and his brother are dead, King Richard should remove his fat-" He was cut off by the demon's hand over his mouth, the demon having sensed the rest of his sentence before it came out and stopping him from saying it. There was a nod of thanks from Ciel's father.

"My thanks. Ciel, Elizabeth, this is your new tutor. You are to address him as 'Professor' and nothing less." The demon moved his hand from the boy's mouth just as he moved to bite the hand. The demon frowned, raising an eyebrow when Ciel pushed away from him.

"Don't touch me!"

This would be tricky.

* * *

"I do not like you, tutor."

"Oddly enough, young man, I gathered that."

"I'm simply making it clear. You've a motive."

"I am a tutor, and nothing more."

"See, I don't believe that."

"Oh? And why not?"

"You're hiding something; that is why." There was a silence at Ciel's statement before the demon quickly removed his hands from the hammered dulcimer just as Ciel swung the small mallet full force to where the demon's fingertips had been a fraction of a second before.

"Now, really young man, was that necessary? Do not be quick to assume that you know everything!" The demon gritted his teeth together as he asked the question, steadily despising the attitude of a younger Ciel. Ciel merely smirked, placing the mallet on the table next to the instrument and staring at the demon.

"I've been raised by many people, professor." Ciel started, spitting out the word professor bitterly and moved around the table towards the Demon. "I was recently raised by a French maid; before that, Chinese servants. Before that, an Indian woman. Before her, it was a master Grecian thief. And before that I was raised by my Greek parents until the Queen spotted me." Ciel picked the mallet up again, twirling it around in his hand and keeping his smirk locked onto the demon. The demon rolled his eyes, almost annoyed until he realised what Ciel was actually saying.

"Do not be ridiculous; your parent's are-"He cut himself off, realising that if Ciel reversed that list of people, it would spell out his previous lives in chronological order. The demon groaned, unsure if the boy knew what he was talking about.

"So you see…" Ciel lightly tapped the demon on the nose with the small mallet. "Young Ciel here does in fact, know everything." He hissed the last word through his teeth, moving over to the door and gripping the handle tightly. The demon watched him, making sure to keep an eye on the mallet in his hand as Ciel turned.

"And, if I recall correctly, you seemed to have had no problem teaching me what I didn't know the first time we parted way's for an extended period." This was said very, very innocently, but the demon noticed the burning fire behind the young boy's eyes as he glanced back before leaving the room.

* * *

"Father, is it not unusual that someone of the professor's rank should be… here?" Elizabeth carefully voiced the question, unsure as to whether she could speak as she clasped her hands together on her lap. A servant quietly leaned across at the same time, blocking the discrete blow from the girl's mother as she picked up several plates from the table.

"My dear, your tutor is a renowned member of the King's court. To deny him such hospitality…" The man trailed off, but the girl seemed satisfied. She flashed a smile before returning to silence.

"Indeed but, if he is such a renowned member of court, why can we not know his name?" Ciel asked, prodding at his food with a fork. The demon raised his eyebrows, eyes locked with Ciel's as the boy kept his eyes on him.

"You are to refer to him as 'professor.' There is no real need to know his name, boy." Ciel narrowed his eyebrows, but continued eating. The demon gave him a grin that unnerved the boy, before speaking.

"If I may inquire; did you learn any French from this previous maid of yours?" He asked, a polite tone to his voice with an underlying wickedness that was hidden to all but Ciel. Said boy's eyes widened momentarily before he gave an innocent shrug.

"I'm afraid I'm not too sure what you're talking about, professor." Ciel folded his hands together as he glanced at his father before returning eye contact with the demon.

"Oh, but I think you do." The demon turned to Ciel's father; he could see the flicker of fear behind the boy's cold eyes as he started to speak.

"You see, just this morning, I was having an interesting conversation with your son. He told me how he was recently raised by a French maid, and has had Chinese servants, Indian servants and Greek servants. Indeed, I did not know you employed such a different amount of nationalities, sir."

Ciel face palmed. The demon smirked. Ciel's father turned quickly on his son to inquire the reason for his 'lies'.

* * *

"Now!"

"Young man, young lady, I must insist that you-"

"Dear God, just what is going on in here?" By the time the father had entered the room, Ciel and Elizabeth were sat calmly on the rug in front of the massive fireplace, one hiding a giggle behind gloved hands and another pretending to warm his hands against the fire.

"Father, I do not believe that the professor has been properly… trained." Ciel spoke up with a serious tone in his voice, ignoring the warning glare that was coming from the demon once it figured out what he was trying to do. It would be a waste of time; Demon's didn't get embarrassed. Annoyed, but never embarrassed. Elizabeth was under the illusion they were making him embarrassed, but Ciel was purposely pulling at his nerves.

"Whatever do you mean, boy?"

"Well you see… Dear Elizabeth and I returned here after dinner, and our dear professor arrived shortly after. We came to the conclusion that we should tell him a tale, of sorts. A scary one involving demons." He trailed off, giving a wicked grin to the demon, but his eyes reflecting a deep annoyance.

"And, well father, poor professor here just got so scared… He had a little accident. I do hope he hasn't stained the furniture." Elizabeth continued, looking genuinely worried and glancing back at the professor. Ciel gave her a sweet, innocent smile before moving to leave the room. He looked up at his father as he passed, opening his mouth to speak.

"Isn't that funny? He was never told as a child that demon's don't exist." He gave a tut as he left. The father knew he had been caught out. So did the demon.

* * *

_"Do you believe in reincarnation-" Sebastian never finished his question; Ciel had dropped the vase he had been cleaning in surprise. He wasn't aware that the Prince was awake._

_"I- I'm sorry!"_

_"Leave it. I'll get someone else to clean it later. For now, answer my question." Sebastian sat up from where he'd been laying and staring at the ceiling. Ciel gave a frown, pulling the drapes away from the windows. The prince moved to his window seat._

_"No. I don't, my Prince."_

_"I see. Sometimes, when I'm either dreaming or simply not thinking of anything, I gain flashes of a life that isn't mine; only, it is mine. And then an odd feeling overtakes me. It's hard to describe it; only that it makes me know that this is my last incarnation. It tells me to enjoy life as it is now, because I'll never see it again. I told you once that I hated the view from this window. The truth is, I can't bear to like it, because if I'm never to walk the earth again in a different life, I don't want to have lost something I loved."_

_"That is a very, sad thought. I find it difficult to comprehend."_

_"Indeed. In later lives, I hope you see something that will remind you of me, this me. Something that will remind you of this conversation, and will make you think 'Sebastian was right.'" He gave a smirk, watching as Ciel scraped up the last pieces of the vase and tossed it out the window._

_"Irony would dictate that that trigger would be you, my Prince."_

_"Oh? Speaking out with such a tone against your superior, are you? I wonder… But no matter. There is, however, one thing that, if I am to never live again, I would miss in the afterlife. I've grown fond of this thing for a very long time now, perhaps even grown to love it if such a thing is possible."_

_"Forgive me for asking, my Prince, but may I inquire as to what that is?" Ciel asked carefully, pulling at the ties of the drapes to distract himself from the feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sebastian looked over at him, a wicked smirk gracing his lips._

_"You."_


	3. America

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the next chapter! I was originally going to put it up in the three lives per chapter, but the eighth and ninth were a bit too long for me to not slaughter during the doc manager process, so I'll post it in two parts. Anyhow, let life seven commence! D:

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Kuroshitsuji, Ciel, Sebastian or anything to do with said Manga.

* * *

**1745 A.D. America**

"_London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London bridge is falling down, my fair lady."_

The seventh time they met, Ciel was sitting on a chair, swinging his legs back and forth and looking _extremely _guilty. The demon had _just _formed a contract with the school mistress of a schoolhouse in a small village.

"What did you do?" The demon asked, arms crossed lightly over his chest as he looked down at him. Ciel jumped in fright, almost falling sideways off his chair. He held his head, rubbing at his temples for a few seconds before looking up at him.

"I set a boy on fire."

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen."

"And you did not think that, at fourteen, setting boys on fire isn't a sensible thing to do?"

"I tripped. He shouldn't have been in my way. They're accusing me of _witchcraft_."

"You're a _boy_."

"They have doubts." At this, the demon gave a short laugh. Ciel may not have been the most boyish-boy, especially not _this _young, but doubting his gender was a new step for the humans. Even _he_ couldn't help but find the idea of Ciel being a woman highly amusing.

"Funny; if you were a girl, I would think that you would be a bit more, _developed _in a particular area."

"_Shut up!_ You're not even a teacher here; be _quiet_."

"Setting a boy on fire shouldn't be enough to accuse you of witchcraft. How did you set him on fire?"

"I told you, I tripped over. Grabbed him as I fell, pushed him into the fireplace. But they also saw me sneezing in the presence of a black cat about a minute before; they think I was _talking _to the thing." The demon gave a frown, looking at Ciel carefully and noting how, despite this being his seventh embodiment, he _still _looked the same, albeit younger.

"They won't be able to convict you." The demon started, unsure how to deal with the slightly depressed boy as he waited. The demon wasn't too fond of his mistress, and briefly he wondered if he could bribe her to _not _send the boy to a trial. He glanced back at Ciel.

The boy looked terribly hopeless.

* * *

"Did you not say they couldn't convict me?" Ciel asked, looking the slightest bit desperate and mildly feral as he pulled at the hem of his shirt, nervously looking towards the doors of the courthouse. The demon gave a small sigh, resisting the urge to kick the boy. He'd tried to subtly persuade his mistress to see reason, subtly attempted to stop her from telling the courthouse judge. But she'd only ordered him to keep away from the boy in question. He could _feel _the Faustian mark on his hand tingling as he disobeyed his orders.

"If you could stay quiet for _just one _moment, I could perhaps get you out of this mess."

"Just give up. They've not accused someone of being a witch for decades; they want some excitement in the town. And what better to accuse of witchcraft than a vulnerable, weak boy who is susceptible to contact with spirits and possession due to his ill health?" At that, the demon turned to look at him, remembering the Salem Witch trials and wondering if perhaps Ciel had once heard about it. Because try as he might, what the boy had just said would remain with him for a long time.

Because he was _right_.

* * *

"_Guilty_! How could they possibly declare me _guilty_ of _witchcraft_?" Ciel kicked the wall of the small cell he was confined to, hands balled into tight fists.

"Quite easily. They say 'guilty.'"

"You're so funny; such rapier wit!"

"Would you rather I tell you the truth? Would you rather I sit with you and allow you to mope on death, murder, guilty, not guilty, slaughter, witches and other morbid things?" At this, Ciel gave a heavy sigh, sitting in the corner of the cell of the jailhouse and hugging his knees to his chest. The demon sat down on the empty chair in the room, noting the absence of the jailor but dismissing it in order to carefully study Ciel. The boy in question gave another sigh, tired blue eyes locking with his own.

"Did you ever have any idea of what was going to happen?" The scared tone that layered his voice made the demon raise an eyebrow in mild surprise.

"No, not really. I thought that I had enough evidence to make the judge unable to convict you. It seems, however-"

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about that night, with the black rose. The day a prince professed to love a servant, before allowing them both to be unlawfully killed."

At that, once blurry memories from his last human life became very vivid and clear. Whereas before he could only remember days spent in the servants company, that one question uttered by the very servant in question pulled the memory of their last day as humans from a void inside the demon's mind. He could clearly remember the tricky ties of the servant's uniform, slowing his progress, could clearly remember the taste of his skin on his lips before they were pulled apart by the banging open of doors.

_Somehow_, the demon held his posture as he rifled through the memory of his last twenty-four hours of human life, remembering the cold, dampness of the dungeon he had been locked in and the searing pain of the stones tearing his skin open.

"You were in the dungeon cell opposite me. I tried to get you to speak to me, but you simply ignored me." The demon stated, any emotion hidden from his voice. Ciel, snapping his head up from where he was sat, looked up at the demon.

"I thought you had known what was going on. I thought you had set it all up. I thought I'd be hanged and then you released back to your lifestyle. Until the King made me watch you getting stoned from the window. But even then, I thought you had been under the impression you were being freed; that you'd simply been betrayed by your father."

"No. I never knew what would transpire that night, nor did I expect that my father would react the way he did." At the demon's words, Ciel seemed to relax in his cell, leaning his head against the wall and giving the barest hint of a smile.

"Then perhaps I can be finally allowed to stop this ridiculous cycle of life and death. Perhaps the reapers will take me this time, and allow me to never have to walk this earth again. I wonder, did you feel like this in the days when you realised that you were in your last life? Or am I the only one to be reborn again and again?" The question was rhetorical, needing no answer.

"How have you constantly recognised me?" The demon asked, wanting that one last answer before he would let this soul go. In all honesty, he was only curious. Attachement and sentiment had disappeared the moment the first stone had tore his cheek open. Ciel looked up again, a look of wonder in his face. He kept silent for a few seconds before he answered.

"The second time we met, in Constantinople when you were a demon, it may have been because I thought I was going to die. The moment you picked me up off the floor, I thought it was over. I yelled out the first thing that came to mind, and with it returned my memories. The third time, in India, it was because you saved my life. Your touch as you pulled me from the water revived memories I didn't know I had, along with vaguer memories of a life of thievery and a life in a palace. The fourth time, in China, you knocked into me. Again, the contact from you sparked memories of my past life. The fifth time, on the ship, I was dying from plague after saving that rat. Although that time, it may have had something to do with how I was dying _and _the contact from you as you moved me to make it easier to breathe. The sixth time, in England, you placed your hand over my mouth to silence me, and it brought back vaguer memories that became clearer the more I saw you. This time around, your hand brushed against me as you led me from the schoolhouse to my home. It may be the contact, it may be coincidence."

The demon gave a nod at that, keeping his eyes on the boy as a bell outside tolled midday. Ciel kept his silence in his cell as he awaited news of his coming execution. The demon merely sat there, going through the memories in his mind and feeling oddly at ease. In a way, he still felt dismayed with himself for feeling the way he did.

When Ciel was called for execution, the demon merely watched in silence, content with knowing that he wouldn't be annoyed by the continuous reappearance of the soul that had kept popping up in his demonic life.

Or so he thought.

* * *

"_You_."

_Ciel hadn't been expecting that; it surprised him to the point where he took a small step forwards and tripped, his foot getting caught on the leg of the table that he had been arranging food on. His hip connected with the wood, sending him flying forward to the floor uttering a rather loud curse in the process. As he fell, he moved to grab the edge of the table and succeeded only in slicing the palm of his left hand open. In his pain, he managed to blush only to a faint pink. The prince shook his head with a smirk on his face, waiting until Ciel had stemmed the blood flow from his hand in his servant robes._

"_I too, had that reaction when I realised it." He uncurled his hand, showing the servant a long, fresh scar that ran along his left hand from where it had been sliced across the table edge. "I was folding the table away and noticed you having a heated discussion with the cook outside. I wondered how someone could act so small and fragile one second, and then explode in such anger, retort with such a heated passion in their voice. At the same time I realised that _I_ was falling in love, you sat on one of the wagons outside and looked up to the window. It shocked me as the realisation hit me fully, and I fell over the leg of the table."_

"_I-I…" Ciel trailed off, undeniably shocked by the confession but unable to think of anything suitable to say. Instead of insulting the prince like he thought it would, Sebastian merely gave another smirk, this one oddly fake as he helped to pull Ciel up from the floor. As he pulled him up, he directed him closer to himself, bowing his head so as to be able to quietly whisper into the blushing servant's ear._

"_Most people mistake black to be the colour of death, hatred. I consider it to be the colour of rebirth, of the final mark needed before the feeling of satisfaction can be achieved… Do not mistake the two upon the appearance of a blackened flower."_


	4. England, The Beginning of the End

**A/N**: Hey! Last chapter guys, I really hope you all like it! Depending on feedback, I _may _do an epilogue =D

* * *

**February 1886 A.D. England**

Sebastian, having nothing to do and nothing that particularly _needed _doing, spent his second evening with his new master in his own room, pondering the events of the previous two days. In mid January, he'd been summoned to a boy after being drawn to an unusual deep, riveting amount of anger radiating from the boy. Before he'd formed the contract, he'd automatically known the souls most recent history. Finding out that he had been kidnapped a month before in the December had piqued the demon's interest enough to appear to the boy.

Finding out that the boy was the host of the soul he had been chasing for centuries before letting it go was _not _the best of news he had discovered. But the contract had already been formed by the time he had realised it, and as the boy seemed to have shown no sign of recognition behind his eyes when he adapted back to the form he had held as a human (and apparently, horrifically similar to the boys father; it made him wonder if the late Vincent Phantomhive had been the reincarnation of one of his brothers), he left it alone. There was no light behind the boy's eyes, not even when his fiancé had cornered him and swept him into her arms in tears of joy at his being alive (Seeing that girl again had put him in a bad mood; he'd had enough of the girl in 15th century England; to see her again with a _twice _as girly attitude was annoying). Not even a sparkle in the orbs when his aunt had done the same thing, holding him tightly like she would a son and not asking about anything that had happened whilst he was gone.

The eighth time Sebastian found Ciel, _he _was the servant.

He had chased the soul through lifetimes in order to find it for himself, and now he had it. The irony of _how _he was obtaining it didn't escape him.

He prodded at some of the logs in the fireplace, setting them alight and welcoming the warm flames when compared to the cold snow outside. Ciel had still not spoken very much to anyone, least of all him, and had continued to wander around with little aim whilst the last of his wounds healed. Sebastian rather suspected that, once they had gone, Ciel would change _very _drastically; he could sense a determination deep inside him. That, and in this lifetime he had been spoiled from birth. If he _wasn't _a brat, Sebastian would suspect something to be wrong.

There was a sharp rapping on the door to his room, followed quickly by the twisting of the doorknob. Sebastian would have wondered _who _would be awake at this time of night in the Phantomhive household had he not recognised the small rasp in the breathing of the person entering the room. Silently, Ciel walked in, shutting the door behind him carelessly and sitting on the edge of the bed in Sebastian's room. His eyes were locked onto the flames in the fire next to where the butler was standing, although the difference in his composure was noticeable immediately to the demon.

Ciel was holding his head high, as would be proper for a head of the Phantomhive name, clearly knowing that it made him seem to be looking down at whatever would be the target of his gaze. His airs were settling, the weight of everything that was soon to come finally registering with the boy who had, only two months ago, once been enjoying a life where he hadn't expected to be burdened with it so quickly.

"Bocchan, you are awake fairly late this evening." Sebastian's voice broke the calm silence that had descended the moment Ciel entered the room, making the boy give a scoff as he looked into the fire.

"_Nothing _escapes your attention, does it?"

And now Ciel was being _sarcastic_. Sebastian refrained from rolling his eyes or making a noise of displeasure, and instead studied him. The nervous, inquisitive nature of the boys first incarnation had not reappeared in this one. From what he had gathered from Madame Red, the boy had been _similar _to how he once was, but after the fire and his kidnapping there was nothing left in him apart from hatred and a desperate will for revenge_. That_ was something that Sebastian could feel emitting from the soul without even touching the boy. He dared an answer.

"I should hope not, bocchan. What good would I be if I _didn't_ notice _everything_?" The next realisation to the demon contradicted that statement; only now did he notice that his master was _sopping wet._ "Bocchan, have you been outside?"

"Of course not; I was walking down the hallway and _somehow _ended up wet." The demon could _feel _the sarcasm dripping from the ten year olds mouth. "Of course I've been outside."

"Bocchan, it is raining outside. If you had wanted to take a stroll outside, you could have merely called and would have saved yourself the trouble of getting soaked." The demon had a point, his tone holding a small amount of sarcasm when the word 'stroll' rolled off his tongue, making Ciel narrow his eyes at the fire he was staring into. The contract on his right eye reflected the orange depths of the fire, and the demon found the symbolism annoying. That being said, he _knew _that Ciel's soul would be one of the best he would consume, regardless of the past lives that they had lived through.

"I didn't go for a _stroll_. I sat by the statues in the garden." He muttered, his eyes flickering to the desk where the key to his room lay. The demon hadn't locked his door that night; either that, or he needed to get a working lock.

"Could you not have done that in _dry _weather, bocchan?" Ciel shook his head at that, irking the demon.

"No, I could not have."

"May I ask _why_?"

"It's harder for a fire to start when it's wet everywhere." He muttered darkly, making the demon pause momentarily as he searched for a towel through the drawers in his room. He may not sleep, but he didn't appreciate his master getting everything in his room wet. He kept his silence as he wrapped the towel around the wet nightclothes of his master, squeezing at the soaking strands of hair to get rid of the water. Some parts of Ciel's hair had fuzzed and tangled together; Sebastian rolled his eyes discretely at the boy's messiness.

"Elizabeth is visiting tomorrow… I think she wishes to ingrain herself into my life permanently so as to make sure that I do no disappear again." Ciel muttered as Sebastian pulled a hairbrush through his tangled hair.

"She is your fiancé; sooner or later she will be a part of your life for good."

"Never later. There won't be one. But if she is to visit so frequently, and if I am to continue my father's role as the Queen's guard dog, I want my mansion guarded securely."

"Am I not good enough for that task, Bocchan?"

"Not when you're out in London with me and she decides to visit this home whilst we're away. Find some servants who can both serve _and _protect the mansion." Ciel muttered, wincing as the brush was yanked through his hair.

"Very well, bocchan." Sebastian uttered quietly, smoothing Ciel's hair and tightening the ties on the front of his nightclothes. Ciel slowly stood up, unconsciously tugging the towel tighter and narrowing his eyes when his fist uncurled and dropped the few petals of sterling silver roses onto the floor. The demon ignored it, opening his door to lead his master to his room once more. They walked in silence, Ciel a step ahead continuously. Sebastian only gave an annoyed shake of his head, following and resisting the urge to twist the candelabra around in his hand out of boredom.

"On Monday, one of the Queen's aides will be arriving to _clear _a few things up regarding whether or not I will be continuing the roles of the late Count Phantomhive… I would like you to have more servants by this time, and to show him every courtesy." Ciel said 'I would like'; Sebastian heard 'I order', and the small tingle that ran across his hand made him give a small smirk. His first order.

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

_The prince thumbed the dyed black rose carefully, ignoring the thorns that he'd yet to pull off. He'd slip it under the servant's pillow if he could; only problem was, the blushing thing hadn't been seen by him since his confession two days earlier. Idly, he wondered if he'd scared the younger man off._

_A sharp, familiar rap on the door snatched his attention, the prince quickly hiding the black rose in a container with a red one before uncurling on his seat with a look of pure boredom on his face. Who would be escorting him to dinner today, he wondered._

"_Ah… I see that you are still alive." The prince drawled, sitting up properly at the delightful sight of his dear servant stumbling through the door._

"_Forgive my absence, my prince. I was ridden with a sickness so bad that the Queen kindly allowed me to be bedridden until it passed." Ciel uttered out, hands wrung together with nerves. The Prince gave a laugh, standing up and sauntering past with a hidden, triumphant grin on his face. The servant followed, quickly and unsurely, after his prince._

"_Well, I do hope that you are well enough to serve… Now, could you go inform my eldest brother that he too will be needed at the dining hall, despite his state?"_

"_Th-that's on the other side of the palace, my-"_

_"Defying orders, are we? My, my, what shall we do if that is the case?" The prince cut in, a smirk on his handsome face. The servant sho__ok his head, leaving silently to an empty room; Sebastian's brother was not in the country at the present moment but, rather, was visiting one of the smaller islands around their home._

_Ciel didn't notice the prince slip back into his rooms with an aim to place the roses under Ciel's pillow._

* * *

**Aug 26th 1890, England**

"How was I supposed to know that _you'd _get caught?"

"You should have listened. I specifically said 'do not go to London.'"

"Last time I checked, Sebastian, _I_ was _your_ master._ You_ listen to _me_." Ciel spat out bitterly, wrapping his coat tighter around him as they walked quickly through a park. They were walking at a pace where they would be mere blurs to those who would stop to look at them properly, Ciel two steps ahead and refusing to be picked up by the other demon so they would be able to move faster.

"Bocchan, _calm down._" He spoke with an authority in his voice that Ciel had never heard directed at him, prompting the smaller demon to stop completely. Before he could turn and retort to that, Sebastian continued. "You gave yourself away. Yes, you saw Lady Elizabeth chatting to me, but you did not need to show yourself as you are. I could have given her any excuse, something as simple as being hired by someone else. You should have kept on _walking_." As he said this, Sebastian gently pushed his master forward, forcing him to keep moving throughout London.

"Don't touch me!" Sebastian had rarely been hit by Ciel when the latter was human, and since he had become a demon, Ciel hadn't so much as brushed against him. Out of instinct, when Ciel spun to slap him across the face, Sebastian gripped his wrist before it could connect. The bare bit of wrist just below his gloved hands brushed against Ciel's skin, the younger demon giving a truly vicious glare towards Sebastian. Sebastian only picked up his master at his pause, moving at a much faster pace than Ciel was making them go.

"I hate you, you know that?"

"Yes, my lord, I do."

* * *

"Can demons find each other?" The question had a hint of curiousness if one filtered the layers, but to most it simply seemed like Ciel was asking the question out of boredom as he twirled a quill around in his hand.

"Please elaborate, bocchan." A blunt reply.

"If one demon wanted to hide from another demon, could he do so and never be found?" Ciel asked, vermillion eyes locking with Sebastian's equally red ones. The older demon blinked. He pondered the question carefully, placing an empty teacup down for Ciel before answering.

"Demons are capable of almost anything, in all fairness. However, that means that although a demon _can _hide without a trace, it would be futile as another demon would be perfectly capable of finding them. So, yes, but only for a few years at most." He spoke plainly; he'd been expecting these questions sooner or later.

What he _hadn't _expected, on the other hand, was for the curious little demon in front of him to completely disappear the moment he _blinked_.

That was when he decided that it _really _wasn't his year. First, he'd been forced a year before to serve a demon for all eternity, –which wouldn't be _quite _so bad if Ciel remembered their previous meetings and wasn't an outright _brat_ – then he'd had to teach said brat the do's and don'ts of a contract, and now Ciel had figured out how to manipulate Sebastian's human habit of blinking to try and flee.

_Brilliant_.

* * *

The boy was leading him on a wild goose chase; he _had _to be. That, or Ciel was stupid enough to believe that, just because he was a demon, he wouldn't leave behind any tracks. In the mood he was in –his normally graceful and uncaring façade broken by a _child_ – he hoped it was the former, only so he could punish his immortal master without any regrets.

The first place where he found trace of the demon outside England was in a French village close to a port. With little cobbled streets, bakeries on every corner and straw roofed houses, Sebastian wondered if perhaps Ciel was having him on. The place seemed so sickly picturesque that Sebastian knew his would have rotted at the sight of it, were he human. Only when turning his head away in slight disgust at the scent of sweet rolls did he notice the plaque on the ruins of a wall next to the docks.

'_The black death of Europe was passed from this dock on a spices ship to the docks of Weymouth, England, infecting England with plague in the year 1348 A.D.' _

_Then _it clicked. It uncharacteristically surprised the demon that Ciel would leave such an _obvious _path. His trail had disappeared for a while a month ago, leaving Sebastian dumbfounded until it had reappeared again in London; Ciel must have gone to America at that time. Then he had to have gone back to London where Sebastian found the trail before speeding off to France.

Briefly, he wondered if Ciel was remembering parts of his life from before his last one. When he'd become a demon, he would have only been able to remember everything from his previous life. Unless Ciel had recalled all seven lives before his eighth prior to becoming a demon, the chances of him doing so now were low.

Nevertheless, he slipped quietly into the shadows behind a building, figuring out in his mind the next place that Ciel would likely be.

* * *

He was getting _really _annoyed.

It had been six hundred and three years since he had walked down these tunnels, but even all those years later, Sebastian still felt a small twinge of uneasiness. The crypt, hidden well underground in a part of China that was now uninhabited, always seemed to hold a thick, uneasy air when Sebastian had visited it twice, over six hundred years ago. It was as if a curse had been placed over the entire crypt, to be triggered only whenever he walked to it.

At the familiar sound of a girly giggle, Sebastian did a double take. For all the good that turning the corner of the tunnel would do, it would seem that the crypt _was _cursed. A giggle like that would only ever be associated with one man. Slowly, he turned along the twisting path; candelabra letting a light fill the space in front.

"Grell Sutcliff. Why are you here?" The Shinigami in question turned around abruptly, revealing himself to have been messing on with two figurines that he must have found deeper in the crypt.

"Sebby! Oh how _long _is has been since we last laid eyes on each other?" Sebastian sidestepped when the Shinigami launched himself in his direction. Grell fell face first to the floor, giving a grunt of unhappiness before standing up again and brushing himself off.

"Not long enough. What are you doing in China?"

"That bastard William sent me to judge the soul of a grave robber, who's soon to arrive. He made me –a _lady- _wait in this _dirty _crypt!" Grell moaned, his voice whiny as he checked his nails for dirt.

"Why not wait outside?" Sebastian asked, starting to make his way back along the tunnelled pathways, Grell following close behind. At the question, Grell pulled out his book from the pockets of his red coat.

"I saw the name of the crypt. Or rather, the name of the brat residing in here. I thought, 'maybe darling Sebby will know about this crypt and investigate!' And I was right; the fates have blessed us with another meeting!" Grell gave his shark-toothed grin, not realising it couldn't be seen by Sebastian in the darkness. He again tried to launch himself at Sebastian; the demon held a hand out and pushed Grell to the floor before Grell could wrap himself around the demon.

"You know that my bocchan is now a demon; why assume I would investigate a crypt of a long dead boy with a similar name?"

"I was right, wasn't I?" At that, Sebastian didn't grace him with an answer, but only because he wouldn't admit to the Shinigami that yes, he was right. Grell nearly punched the air when he got no answer. "Oh Sebby, you're so _stoic_! It causes shivers to run all along my skin!" Sebastian cringed when Grell yelled that into the darkness, closing his eyes and trying to get the image in his head that was slowly forming to _leave_. He stopped abruptly, giving no warning to Grell, who walked closely past his body and into the stone wall. There was some satisfaction in hearing the crack of Grell's nose impacting with the stone and the excited breathing dissipating into a pained groan.

"Right… the lever should be somewhere about… _here_." The demon muttered under his breath, ignoring Grell's complaints about his face. The stone wall moved slowly to the left, disappearing completely into the stone after a few seconds, as if it had never been there in the first place. The demon stepped lightly over the Shinigami, into the large room ahead. A single sarcophagus lay in the centre, thick and made from gold in some areas.

The general had hated his son in life, but had ensured the best burial for his death.

Grell immediately moved to the rest of the small, army figurines in the room, giggling when he picked some of them up. Sebastian looked directly to the sarcophagus, noticing at once something that hadn't been there the last time he had visited.

A brand new, lightly layered with dust, volume of an Edgar Allen Poe book. It was open, cover facing upwards as if someone had just put it down and then disappeared. Sebastian lifted it up carefully, a single slip of old parchment falling from within the pages. The moment he read the writing on it, Ciel's voice echoed throughout his head and the seal on his hand tingled beneath his skin.

'_I order you, stop feeling contractal obligation to follow me, and do only what you care to do until I return.'_

Sebastian only rolled his eyes, the order having no effect on him whatsoever; he wasn't feeling 'contracted obligation' to follow Ciel, rather a curiosity to see what his bocchan was doing with his freedom. It was vaguely interesting. He gave a frown at the feel of red tresses against his face, irritated to find the Shinigami leaning over his shoulder to read the slip of parchment.

"Oh Sebby! Whatever are you to do-" He was cut off by the sound of a very, _very _loud bang, one that reverberated throughout the endless tunnels of the crypt. Grell jumped three feet in the air at the noise; Sebastian simply turned his head to look at the darkness behind them.

"I sense an angry Shinigami. It would seem, Grell, that you have missed your soul." At Sebastian's words, Grell gave a worried whimper and sped out of the room in a half-distressed manner, disappearing into the tunnels towards the front of the crypt. The demon pinched the bridge of his nose, thankful for the momentary quiet.

Pocketing the book, Sebastian gave another look to the sarcophagus, giving a deep sigh before deciding on what he had to do. Ciel had most likely already tried it, judging by the small, practically undetectable cracks along the left side of the sarcophagus. But the cracks only ran along one side; it would seem that, despite being a practically newborn demon, his strength was not yet at its peak. In one swift, precise movement, Sebastian punched the lid of the sarcophagus, sending it flying off and towards the opposite wall with a loud 'crack'. Looking inside, he didn't even need to pull apart the layers of silk to confirm his suspicion that had grown all those years ago.

The sarcophagus was empty.

Where the body was, was anyone's guess. It wasn't the one that Ciel was currently inhabiting; his proof that the body wasn't being consistently revived was when he had heard about the China Ciel's death and had gone to the Constantinople unmarked grave to find the Greek Ciel's bones still buried seven feet deep. But the Sarcophagus hadn't been opened since it had been sealed shut; the crypt had only ever been entered four times - the first, a year after Ciel's death. The second time, Sebastian had been feeling ridiculously sentimental after allowing the infected rat into England, the third was by Ciel himself not two weeks prior, and the fourth time was today, with a rather annoying Shinigami at his side and a demon master to find.

Unless, of course, there was no body to bury.

As he started to think deeper into it, he was interrupted by the sound of heeled shoes tapping off stone floor, followed by a softer set of footsteps close behind. Grell burst in, a rather nasty, healing cut on his head with a few bloodstains, and William Spears followed.

"Ah, it's you. I should have suspected that there was a reason this fool didn't do his job properly." The elder Shinigami looked around, pushing his glasses up his nose with the end of his scythe. "Although I must say, grave robbing is a whole new low for you." Sebastian merely gave him a smirk, bowing his head slightly and pointing to the lid of the sarcophagus that was against the far wall.

"An act I wouldn't have to commit, had you collected the soul of the grave's owner when you were supposed to. If you had done your job properly, this tomb wouldn't be here. Tell me, look inside that book of yours and see why the soul of 'Ciel Phantom' was not collected at the time of his fourth death." He spoke with a bored tone, watching as William gave him a look of disdain and extended his scythe again to hit Grell over the head with as he checked the records.

"Will! How _dare _you treat a lady-"

"If you had done your job properly, I wouldn't have to admit to this vermin that we made a mistake." He gave an annoyed sigh. "Let's see here. Ciel Phantom. Currently Ciel Phantomhive." As he continued reading through it, he gave a low chuckle and looked up with narrowed eyebrows at the demon in front of him. "It would seem that the reason this soul has kept going on a continuous cycle is because of _you_, demon. No surprise, really." Sebastian sidestepped an oncoming Grell as he crossed his arms, eyes on William. His face was neutral, eyes flashing in the candlelight of the tomb.

"Elaborate, reaper."

"Souls Ciel Averlain and Sebastian of Arkoi. I see they held no originality for _your_ name. One hung, the other stoned. You died mere minutes apart from each other, after the amount of stones you had hurled at you. There was only one Shinigami present; you were supposed to die an hour apart, but you held on for a ridiculously long time. Unfortunately, he wasted his time trying to wrestle your soul from a demon, only to fail and lose the soul of Ciel Averlain in the process. It rarely happens; simply a case where the soul waits too long to be collected, disappears to be reborn and, after losing the first records, Shinigami are unable to find them again."

"Is the Shinigami responsible for that still alive?" Sebastian didn't mean to ask the question; rather he had felt slightly surprised by William's words and had uncharacteristically blurted it out. William gave a nod, narrowing his eyebrows and stabbing Grell in the side with his Scythe.

"Ow! William, you bas-"

"The Shinigami in question is standing right next to you. It was the idiot's first day out of the academy without being supervised."

Sebastian turned to face a guilty, grinning Grell, eyebrow raised.

"Shouldn't he have retired by now? He's half Undertaker's age, if that's the case." At his question, William pushed his glasses up his face again with a click of his scythe.

"A question I ask myself every day, demon."

* * *

When Sebastian reached Arkoi two months later, he didn't recognise it. It didn't register with him that this was his birthplace; didn't register that he'd been killed here by people who were once loyal to here. He was more focused on _finding _his master and going _home_, wherever that was. He liked a chase, but not one that lasts nearly four months.

In minutes he had crossed the entire island, stopping at what looked like two cliffs with many, many alcoves dotted around the side. They were crumbling, almost completely eroded despite not hovering over the sea. The actual sea was several yards east of the cliffs, no sand on the shores but large clumps of rock scattered about a stony shore. Most of the population of the island had moved to the west side of the island, where the port was easier to access by trade ships. Only _thirty _people remained on the island.

He found his master on the top of one of the cliffs, sitting on two rocks that had been brought together, as if they formed a throne. His legs were crossed one over the other, elbow resting on what looked like an arm of a chair and staring idly out at sea. Sebastian wondered if perhaps his master had _carved _the stone throne from what he could find. He moved towards it quietly, prepared to tightly grasp his master in case he decided to run. Before he had the chance to, however, Ciel spoke.

"I believe I told you to stop following me. Why have you disobeyed your orders?" Other than speaking, Ciel showed no inclination to indicate he knew Sebastian was there; there wasn't even the slightest twitch that would be imperceptible to a human.

"You told me to stop feeling 'contracted obligation' to follow you."

"Then why did you follow?" His tone was bored, clear as a bell through the windless air and sharp to Sebastian's ears. The elder demon moved around the back of the makeshift seat to face his master.

"A vague curiosity. I thought perhaps it would be enlightening to see what you would do with a few months of freedom."

"_Liar_." Sebastian was rarely surprised, but with one word Ciel had managed to _almost _make him give a gasp of surprise.

"Oh?" The elder demon uttered softly, although at his tone he could _feel _Ciel's annoyance through his contract seal. It tingled beneath his skin deliciously, alight with the irritation of a tainted master.

"You wanted to see if I was looking for a way to break the contract. You wanted to see if I could succeed where you failed. I wondered that, if I went back to the very beginning, something would fall into place. Something that would make me see how to break it. I've sat here for a month and found _nothing_." Ciel spat out bitterly, eyes never leaving their fixed position on the waves of the sea. The proud earl admitting a defeat intrigued Sebastian.

"Why here? A pointless island that is not even marked on a map?" Sebastian asked, although at the look on Ciel's face that came with the question had him wondering if his master would attempt to strike him. But then Ciel's eyes narrowed slightly, the common unsettling smirk resting on his lips as he leaned back in the seat.

"Pointless? Look around you. In fact, look at this throne. You assume I carved it from the rock face? Look more closely. Imagine an arrogant, know-it-all prince lounging out across it with a devilish smirk on his face and a shy, ridiculously dependant servant standing behind it, like a loyal _dog_." Ciel spoke out slowly, getting up off the throne and walking around it, leaning on the back of it with his elbows propped up, head resting in his hands. Then, as an afterthought, "I'm not talking about Soma, either." Sebastian gave an annoyed frown, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his weight to one leg and tapping his foot. He had no _idea _what Ciel was talking about, until the boy did the most ridiculous thing possible. He stood up straight, clasped both hands behind his back, allowed more of his hair to fall into his eyes, looked down at the floor and allowed his eyes to portray every false emotion he could think of. Immediately, in Sebastian's mind, he saw himself lounged across the chair, fanning himself with his hands whilst Ciel stood behind, attire changed to the clothes of servants.

"_Bocchan._" Ciel snapped his head up, changing his stature immediately back to his proud, sophisticated demeanour.

"_Now _you see it. Now look around, demon. I did not move this throne. It looks as though it has been carved into the cliff. But look carefully at the cliff." Ciel leaned back on the top of the throne, observing the fellow demon before him with the glint in his eyes that suggested one thing to Sebastian; his master was playing yet another game. He did as ordered, however, and quickly noticed that he was not, in fact, standing on a cliff. He was standing on the ruins of a palace. The ruins of the place he had once called home. If Ciel was being unusually sentimental, it wasn't working in drawing out long lost feelings. It only succeeded in making him feel slightly nauseous.

"What is your point, young master? A fun game you are playing, but not one to be played lightly." Sebastian warned, unfolding his arms and allowing them to hang by his side as Ciel simply scoffed.

"There is a piece of the game that you and I have not yet completed; a piece of unfinished business. I'm a child; not finishing a game is unacceptable." The sarcasm was oozing from Ciel's voice, resulting in Sebastian narrowing his elegant eyebrows in Ciel's direction. Ciel gave him another smirk, sitting back down and tapping his fingertips on the stone. With human hands, only a light tapping would have resulted, but with his demonic nails it sounded eerily similar to nails on a chalkboard.

"Then play, my lord."

"I will, butler, I will. But I have centuries ahead of me to play games. Think back to your _final _hour. Recall thoughts that were once long lost."

"My lord, this will achieve nothing." Sebastian spoke politely, eyes on the little demon sitting on the old throne. It was clear that Ciel was stepping closer to an invisible line. Ciel shook his head.

"Nothing? I don't care. For eternity I am _stuck _as a demon, stuck with _you, forever_. If I have to do that, if I really can't escape from you for too long, then I want you to have some _life_. You're the same as you were when I was human; only now do I notice the _monotone_. You're blaming me for this. You blame me for ordering you to be my butler until the very moment you eat my soul. But you're blaming me for something else, too. An old enemy from human days; you're unconsciously blaming me for something that you saw in your final hours. And if it takes _this _to un-bastardise you, then I. Don't. Care. About. Consequences. Tell me, what made you cross the line from human to demon?" With that, the small, angry demon picked up the sharpest rock he could find and threw it with all his newborn strength towards his butler. Sebastian caught it between two fingers, the sharpest point mere millimetres from between his eyes. Narrowing his eyebrows, he was about to make a comment on the childishness of Ciel's actions when he looked behind his young master and saw a view similar to the one he would have seen from his window nearly two thousand years ago. The older demon gave a scoff, one he would generally use when around Grell.

"Pointless questions will get you nowhere in life."

"I'm already dead. I order you, _answer me_."

"Betrayal, my bocchan."

* * *

"_If I do it, will you let him go?"  
_

_"I will order my guards to stand down and to release his chains." At that, the servant glanced outside one of the window of the King's personal chambers, spotting the prince being held at the front of the palace. He was struggling against the guards that held him. Quickly, Ciel turned away when one of them picked up a rock and waited whilst another started to chain the prince's leg to a post in the ground._

"_Two nights ago, at approximately eleven of the evening watch, I… _seduced _the prince into consenting to unnatural acts, before being caught by his Royal Highness King Alexander." Ciel spat the words out bitterly, hating himself for saying a lie. His eyes flitted from the King to the doomed prince outside. Alexander gave a grim smile, motioning to one of the guards with a nod. The guard left the room, reappearing outside a few minutes later. The servant watched as the prince was unchained just seconds before the sun reached its highest point. A few moments later, Sebastian was surrounded by rock wielding citizens of the city. The servant turned in shocked protest._

"_You told me-"  
_

_"I told you I would let him go. I did _not _however, say that I would stop the city from punishing him, nor did I say I would give him back his dignity, title and riches. Now with _that _confession of yours, I believe that you are due for a hanging. And don't bother trying to look outside; if he sees you observing from this window, whatever will he think?" Regardless of that warning, Ciel sidestepped a guard who came towards him, moving to the window and giving an uncontrolled cry of protest at the bloody state that Sebastian was already in._

"_No!" His cry was heard by Sebastian, who glanced up in time to see his servant being dragged from the window by two burly guards. It seemed to him that his servant had played along at the wish of his father._

"_Ciel?"  
_

_"Sebastian!"_


	5. Epilogue

**A/N**: Hey! Here's the epilogue! Wow, I didn't expect such a response from the last chapter! 8D Although I apologise if it wasn't all too clear about the betrayal part; basically, since Sebastian saw Ciel in his father's chambers just as he was getting killed, Sebastian automatically thought that Ciel had sold him out to his father, and was only ever planning on acting along with what they were about to do before they got caught. This makes him angry, attracts a demon etc, you know the rest ;) I made the epilogue short because I really didn't want to drag it out; I wanted to make it short but sweet. Take the ending to this as you wish! :D

* * *

Silence.

It was, quite frankly, suffocating.

Ciel was sitting rather uncomfortably in his dining room, an old echo of a wish inside him that wanted to be _human _again, with piles and piles of paperwork to sift through. At least _then_ he'd be able to distract himself.

It had been a week since the incident in Arkoi. After Sebastian's answer to Ciel's order, Ciel had simply kept quiet, completely unable to process the single word through his mind. Only when Sebastian explained to him that seeing Ciel in the King's bedchambers hadn't spelt out a pretty picture for him did Ciel finally understand. The young demon had lapsed into a silence, not speaking on the way back to their home as he took in everything.

His soul had been forced into rebirth because of a twenty-two year old servant's stupidity, a Shinigami's recklessness and a prince's misunderstanding. Now that the roles of master and servant were reversed, Ciel wasn't entirely sure what to think of the situation.

And thus, the minute they had walked through the door, they seemed to have settled into Ciel's human routine. Minus, of course, the other servants, the food and the paperwork. Not a single word had been passed between them both, other than Ciel telling Sebastian to lead the way home when they were still in Arkoi. As uncharacteristically strange it seemed, Ciel had spent the last hour sitting in his large wooden chair, lounged out across it like royalty and keeping his eyes anywhere but on his butler.

Who, of course, had his eyes locked onto Ciel and was studying him; partly in curiosity, partly in animosity. He had assumed that the silence would break after a day or two, what with Ciel's constant need to outright _complain_, but there'd been nothing from his young demon master. He assumed that, as much as Sebastian was thinking over every little detail of Ciel's previous lives, Ciel had to be doing the same.

As the blinds to the room shifted and the sun was allowed to filter into the room, every speckle of dust was illuminated and Ciel promptly looked up.

And met his butler's gaze for the first time in a week.

They both stared at one another, Sebastian's bored and unwavering gaze locking with Ciel's stubborn and unyielding one. Ciel's eyes flickered blue, as they did often, and for a moment Sebastian saw his old bocchan reflected in the gaze. He saw an American teenager, an English twin boy, a plague-ridden French child, a Chinese general's son, an Indian trader, a Grecian thief and a Grecian servant.

Either one of them would break the silence first, or both would go slowly insane.

"My lord?" Ciel's eyebrow twitched; proof enough to Sebastian that he was listening and not simply staring. Sebastian was oddly reminded of Ciel's Aunt Francis, and decided to ask a neutral question that would be less likely to provoke the smaller demon to attack. After all, Sebastian _really _didn't need fighting to be added to the list of Ciel-related problems. "Have you given any thought to taking on contracts with humans?"

Ciel's eyebrows knitted together at that, and his eyes searched Sebastian's face for any form of joke. He didn't seem to be able to believe Sebastian's was seriously asking him that, and when he found no trace of amusement, Ciel titled his head back to lean it against the back of his chair.

And laughed.

Sebastian had never heard his master laugh before, and whilst his laughter at the moment was far from an innocent laugh, it was a laugh nonetheless. It was a laugh of disbelief, and when Ciel looked back at Sebastian, he gave another chuckle.

"After… after _everything we've just been through_, the first thing you ask me is if I've given thought to taking on a contract with a human_?"_ Ciel's face returned to its neutral poker face, but there was a small flash of surprise in his eyes as he locked vermillion eyes with Sebastian once more. The corner of Sebastian's lip twitched, prompting more words from Ciel. "You're actually serious, Sebastian. No, I have not given it much thought. My mind has been… elsewhere."

"Oh?" Sebastian questioned, a hidden smirk on his face as he watched Ciel push back his chair, the scraping sound filling the room. Ciel moved around the desk, leaning against it and smoothing out the front of his jacket before crossing his arms and looking up at his butler.

"Yes. And I've come to a conclusion that you and I, we'll never clear up any misunderstandings. Does that matter? I'm not sure." Ciel flexed his hand out and glanced at the palm of his hand, inspecting his nails before looking back up.

"Bocchan, may I-"

"Let me finish, Sebastian. I am still _your _master. We need to talk over a lot of things. Maybe it will take minutes, maybe it will take hours. We'll never get along forever, but we can't keep up a suffocating silence. We can't make life if we're at each other's throats or blinded by horrible memories. Make your choice." His tone was formal, still holding the noble air that was drilled into him since childhood, but his head was still held high as he forced Sebastian into a choice.

And Sebastian did. Slowly, but not hesitantly, he moved towards the younger demon. Finally, after chasing Ciel's soul for centuries, Sebastian captured his lips in his own.

They'd never be perfect, and with such a long history, they had no illusions of ever being perfect. But for now, they were okay.

They could make it.


End file.
